“For the hundredth time yes!” Shark snapped back, “They are the only other people in local, there is no logi on the other side of any of the gates and no other corp members within 10 jumps. Now are you ready for the warp formula or not?”

“Ok sorry, sorry, I’m just a little stressed. This is nothing like Nullsec, I have a billion ISK plugged into my skull, this is my most expensive Proteus to date and this guy supposedly just wants to serve us 4 Navy Battlecruisers for dinner? I have this nagging feeling that he has something up his sleeve and if shit hits the fan you can’t do anything to help.”

“Look its 2 Brutixes a Harbinger and a Hurricane, all military, you and Cyran can do this. Now, what are your orders?”

Motoko took a moment to assess the situation. The targets knew her combat history as well as Cyran’s and were openly challenging us to a fight in something that didn’t have much of a chance of winning. Why would they do this? Was there neutral logi sitting in system somewhere or a backup fleet 2 jumps out? There was just too much about this that didn’t seem right.

“Moto make a decision,” Cyran said calmly. “You wait too long and we lose them.”

Motoko took a deep breath. “Ok here is what we are going to do. Cyran, you warp in first. Shark, I want you to give him a close warp in so it seems like you screwed up. Cyran point the Harby, primary it and burn away form them putting them between the entry gate and you. The harby is most likely a longer range ship as is the ‘Cane, they won’t worry about you pulling range, let the Brutixes chase you down but keep at least 10k between them and you. When you have them spread apart enough I’ll warp on you at 5k and wreck the Brutes first. While I am killing them you burn back, try to finish off the harby and make sure that ‘cane doesn’t get away, then it’s just a matter of cleaning up.”

“What if others show up?”

“Simple, we kill them too. Shark, are you in position?”

“Moto I’m always in position.”

“Good, Cyran jump, Shark, standby to warp him.”

“Alright I’ve landed.”

“Sending warp formula.”

“In warp.”

“Warping out, decloaking, links up.”

Tense seconds pass, Motoko was feeling that surge of energy she always got when entering combat coupled with uncertainty of not being able to see what was going on. Not having any control, hoping Shark did good recon and no one else was coming. From here on out it was up to Cyran to do his part and let her know when to come in, she hoped everything went as planned and waited.

“Moto, jump jump, warp 5k Cyran.”

Motoko lined up her ship with the gate, accelerated into it and shut down her navigation and scanning systems in preparation for the jump gate to take control. The gate flashed sucking her ship in, then nothing. It was always a weird feeling jumping into another system, even more so when you have that adrenaline rush going, the gate pulls you in and you expect a feeling of acceleration but its not there, you weigh nothing, you feel nothing, even the artificial gravity of your ship has no effect on you while in jump. Clouds of dust blur around you and you feel as if you are in a tunnel, then all of a sudden it clears.

Motoko struggled to push away the jump fatigue and get everything online as fast as she could. She got her ship moving to break cloak, locked onto Cyran’s fleet beacon and accelerated into warp.

Everything was perfect.

Cyran followed the engagement plan flawlessly, allowing her to drop out of warp right on top of the two Brutes. It was go time.

She pulled around locking on to both Brutixes and accelerated towards one, locking him down and going to work melting his shields. Luckily they were firmly holding on the the bait. Cyran had the better tank but was playing the role of the tankless kiter enticing them to focus on him leaving Motoko to do her work with her superior firepower. They succumbed to her guns in short order.

“Cyran, Brutes down, Harby on short point, transfer long point to the ‘Cane.”

“Roger, ‘Cane on long point, lets send them home.”

...

“See Moto, I said you two could handle it.” Shark prodded as she landed on grid to help with cleaning up the wrecks.

“You’ve never steered me wrong Shark. Now get out there and find us more fights.”

“AYE AYE MA’AM”

“Smartass.” Moto replied just before shutting her comms off to wind down from the after battle jitters. Highsec Wardeccing was proving to be fun.

And the hunts were just beginning.

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"BOMB INCOMING!" she screamed as she jolted awake. "Wait, calm down girl, its just another flashback."

Motoko stepped out of the clone vat and waved at the operators as she headed for the door. An automated shuttle would be waiting to take her to her private quarters.

"Damn that bomber," she muttered briefly, remembering the battle when an overzealous friendly slung a bomb at a Rooks and Kings fleet. Motoko had been in her Firetail trying to spread points. The resulting explosion had hit so close that it destroyed her ship and pod in one go.

"Well time to go home and reship."

Motoko started fiddling on the holoscreen ordering a ship and new modules for her planned return to the Wormhole, she had received intel that there was an opening linking deep behind the borders of Solar Empire space in their renter territory and had planned to hunt miners not paying attention to their scanner.

Professor Ellery wandered the halls in a daze, moving on autopilot the way that a non-lucid dreamer does while asleep. He somnambulated from one room to the next, moving purposefully, never rethinking, always in motion, until he came to the room he was searching for: his own office. There, on his desk, lying in a circle of moonlight framed by the parting clouds, was the vial he was looking for. He picked it up, opened a drawer and retrieved an empty syringe in a carrying case, checked to make sure he had all of the components necessary, and strode out of the room. As he was leaving it, a thunderous explosion boomed from nearby, and the window shattered inwards. He closed the door just in time to keep the pieces of broken glass from colliding with him, and strode forward purposefully, not looking back even for a moment. He was driven. He was a man with a plan, a man in love, a man with mad, intense purpose, and nothing would keep him from his mission.

Jim hobbled out of the room he formerly thought of as Professor Rice’s office, and now thought of as “the Glass Pit.” He held tight to his crutch in one hand, and had clutched in the other the scrap of paper. He found himself in a study hall, a long, empty table with chairs on all sides, used for review sessions. He sat down and finished reading the paper while he picked glass out of his hair.

Adam woke up with Molly standing over him, her hands on her hips. He had a not unpleasant view of her from this angle, and he was glad she wasn’t quite so “forward thinking” as to wear skirts. “Come on, up you get, doofus,” she said, reaching down and grabbing his hand. He looked down at the rubble in the hallway and let her help him up. “You’ll have to pay for what you did here,” she said. He was looking down and away from her face while he was standing up, but as she said that, he looked up and into a gaping, shattered head, her face completely destroyed, her brains leaking out of the front of her face and onto their clasped hands.

Jim sat, struggling with the translation of the paper. “A most ancient… sorry, no, elder, charm or sign, to use to stopper/prevent/block the movement through a passage/gate/portal by anything… not of the old world? No, that’s old and not of this world. That’s interesting. It almost looks like the Greek translator had trouble with the Arabic here. God I wish I knew Arabic, maybe I should take that next semester,” he muttered to himself as he pulled Adam’s gift from his pocket and laid it next to the parchment. The parchment clearly had a depiction of the amulet on it. It was very precisely the same, in all possible ways, down to what looked like scratches and dings in it. There were a few extra marks on Jim’s necklace, but it was also the case that every mark on the one the parchment showed was also on his necklace. The material looked like pewter. If that was the case, he should be able to squish it pretty easily. He pinched it between his fingernails, and no dent appeared. Okay, well, that means it has a low lead content, it could still be pewter. It certainly doesn’t look like steel or silver. And if the dates on this thing are accurate, it would have been a pretty big deal o make it out of steel. He put it between his molars and bit down on it until he felt like he was about to do damage to his teeth, and then took it out and wiped it on his sleeve to dry it off. No marks at all.

Why am I doing this? he thought. Sure, this thing is probably a (remarkably skillful) reproduction, but even if it is, why am I trying to damage it to prove that? And what if it’s not? This is probably a valuable artifact, and it might be of interest to the University. In fact, I know it is, Professor Rice had this paper on his desk! I could show it to him when the break is over, I’m sure he’d be fascinated. So why was I trying to destroy it? What was I afraid of?